


Rain Isn't Very Good for a Robot

by Rayli_Pines



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, also logan is taller than patton, at least in my headcanon, but have fun anyways, probably the only thing ill ever post
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:14:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27411775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rayli_Pines/pseuds/Rayli_Pines
Summary: Logan stands on the side of the sidewalk, having forgotten his umbrella (found out when rummaging through his bag), just letting the rain pour down on him and soak him from head to toe. A heavy weight drags his chest down as he remembers the names they called him. Robot. Emotionless freak. Oblivious idiot. Suck up. A trembling sigh escapes his lips, but soon, he hears a kind voice behind him through the rushing water.
Relationships: Logan/Patton, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Logicality, Patton/Logan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 58





	Rain Isn't Very Good for a Robot

Water hits his near-black brown hair. It rolls in beads down his face and some even drop off his cleanly edged nose. The sound of pouring rain fills the air while Logan Berry stands on the edge of the sidewalk, a stoic expression on his thin face, the black polo and blue jeans draped over his relatively lanky frame now soaking wet from the storm, the insides of his neat dress shoes irritatingly drenched and soggy, making it difficult to move an inch without grimacing at the sopping texture pushing at Logan’s feet. He had somehow forgotten to bring his umbrella that day, resulting in little to no protection from the relentless wind and rainfall. An exasperated sigh escapes his lips as his glasses are speckled with droplet after droplet, his vision becoming rather wobbly from the refraction of the water.

What’s the worst part of this? Probably that he can’t do anything about it. He could try to cover his head with his arms and run, but that might result in an injury― don’t run during a rainstorm, you’ll slip and fall― and either way, he can’t see very well at the moment. Half because of the rainfall restricting his vision and half because his glasses are useless: covered in water and not letting his poor eyesight see anything without it looking oddly wavy. Right now, he’s just waiting for a bus. Maybe a taxi. Or maybe just waiting for the sky to stop crying.

As he waits, his usually keen mind seems to wander over to unwanted territory. The memory of students snickering to themselves. Passing notes around. He managed to find some left behind after class. ‘Robotic freak.’ ‘Emotionless.’ ‘Oblivious idiot.’ He can still feel the paper crinkling in his hands and crunching under his shoe’s outer sole. He remembers storming out of the classroom, rummaging furiously through his bag for an umbrella to shelter him from the heavy precipitation outside, although not finding one. He remembers gritting his teeth so hard that he was sure they would shatter, throwing open the exit doors and speed-walking away from the school, a tight weight in his chest, moisture beginning to fall on his previously dry clothes.

Logan sucks a sharp inhale through his pearl-white teeth. He holds it for a moment before releasing the shaky breath, trying to calm down his heart which is now ramming itself against his ribcage, fighting to escape its confinement. Oh, emotionless, they said. Perhaps he’s slightly apathetic at times, but emotionless? A bitter laugh unintentionally leaves his mouth. Is anger not an emotion to them? Frustration, even?

...Maybe they’re right.

He shuffles around, beginning to shiver as the rain and wind sends chills up and down his body. G_d, it’s cold. He wishes he had brought an umbrella. Even a jacket would suffice. Curling in on himself would save some body heat but limit his movements. Why must everything be so difficult? If he had just worn something made of wool, a sweater, perhaps― oh, how Logan wishes he learned how to knit― then he would be warm, despite being dripping wet.

  
“Logan, oh my gosh!” a familiar chipper voice calls from behind him, barely audible through the sound of cascading water, “What are you doing out here without a coat?!”

  
Logan turns his head to face where the voice came from, his previously neutral face turning slightly surprised. “S-salutations, Patton,” he stutters out, tucking a strand of loose wet hair behind his ear. “H-how are y-y-you?”

  
“Well, I’m fine and dandy, but it seems you’re not!” Patton pouts, attempting to cross his arms while simultaneously holding a cat-themed umbrella. “Now, you didn’t answer my question. Why are you out here without any sort of shielding from the rain?”

  
“Th-th-that was not your p-previous question, P-Patton,” Logan corrects him weakly, “Your previous question w-was―”

  
“You know what I mean, Mister Smarty Pants,” Patton huffs, stepping closer to the taller man and holding his umbrella over both of them. As he does, though, his freckled arm grazes Logan’s cold one and he jolts in shock. “Gosh, Logie, you’re freezing!”

  
“I’m fine,” Logan lies through his teeth, lowering his head so it doesn’t hit the top of Patton’s cute umbrella. Wait a second. “Wh-what did you just call me?”

  
“I called you Logie,” Patton states nervously, his sweet smile faltering for a moment. “I-is that okay?”

  
“O-of course, Patton,” Logan attempts a small grin, butterfly wings fluttering in his stomach, “I was just c-caught off-guard.”

  
“Oh, okay!” the shorter one giggles cheerfully, pulling his grey cardigan from his shoulders and wrapping it around his friend. “Here. You need it more than me.”

Logan frowns. “Are you sure, Patton? I-it’s very kind of you to do, b-but―”

  
“Ah ah, no buts, Logan,” Patton chides, wagging his finger playfully. Logan feels faint heat rising to the tips of his ears despite the chilliness wracking his body. “Anyway, mind telling me why you’re standing in the rain like this?”

  
“I-I was just…” Logan mumbles, trying to think of an excuse, “..waiting for a b-bus.”

  
“Isn’t the bus stop over there?” Patton asks, pointing to Logan’s right.

  
Logan scoffs, the sound hollow and dry, unlike his clothes at the moment. “How would I know? I c-can’t see two feet in front of me.”

  
“Oh, your glasses,” Patton frowns sympathetically as he notices the water sticking to the rectangular lenses. “Why did you run out of school so fast anyway? You might as well have ripped the exit door off its hinges.”

  
“…nothing important.”

  
“Was it those bullies at the back of the classroom?” Patton asks, receiving a weary glance from his tall friend. He frowns. “It was, wasn’t it? Logie, you of all people should know that it doesn’t mean anything.”

  
“Should I know that?” Logan echoes numbly, his hazel eyes downcast. “I’m not sure I do. After all, an emotionless robot doesn’t know how to feel about things. They might be right after all.”

  
“Logan,” Patton states more firmly this time, “That’s not true. You’re not emotionless. You just prefer to use logic rather than impulse like me. It’s not a bad thing.”

  
“I… I don’t know, Patton,” Logan sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.

  
“Well, you can feel frustration, right? Anger, too. Even happiness, like when you get good news, maybe if a new Sherlock Holmes movie comes out. And you can feel…” Patton pauses, looking up at Logan. His eyes are filled with speckles of stars as he gazes at his freckle-covered friend, a strawberry blush dusting his cheeks, no longer shivering. Realization gives him a confirmation to continue. “You can feel love, can’t you?”

  
“...Perhaps you’re right,” Logan finally relents, smiling gratefully. Patton takes his hand and squeezes it comfortingly. The rain starts to calm down, sprinkling softer now.

  
“I know I am.”

**Author's Note:**

> probs the only thing im gonna post here, have fun reading my trash! if u wanna see more then just leave a comment letting me know


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